


Too Many Teeth (The Dark Things You Welcome)

by demiksmith



Series: Empress Emily the Wise/Little Girls With Knives [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, dishonored 2 is coming someday soon, figured i'd share, musings on what should be a fun relationship, wrote this forever ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:59:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiksmith/pseuds/demiksmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lights in the water. A bad omen, sailors murmur. Too many teeth. Good for catching, hunting, tearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Many Teeth (The Dark Things You Welcome)

Lights in the water have the sailors mumbling and brushing trembling fingers to their brows. She shifts, smile hidden by the fabric draped across her face. The lights were a welcome, a greeting, and she keeps her eyes on the waves, waiting for the faces to appear. Well, _one_ face in particular. He was a friend, maybe, and could be more.

She feels the mark tremble, shiver, a barely-there caress. Brushing her own fingers across it quickly, another smile quirking her lips, she turns to face the water. The sailors have scattered, moving as far away from the water as one could when on a ship, leaving her relatively alone.

“Well, well. You certainly developed a flair for the dramatic.” His voice comes, low and soft, almost masked by the lapping of waves. She leans forward, watching as the moonlight paled against the lights hidden in the water. He’s floating on his back, black eyes stark against his pale skin, and he’s smiling. “Those eyes of yours… just like your father’s.”

“You didn’t come all this way to speak about my father, did you?” Her voice is just as soft, but wry, and she is surprised at her own boldness. The Outsider’s grin is all teeth, too many, too _sharp_ , but it is alluring all the same.

“No. I came for you.” He had visited her, when she slept, when she had awoken with his mark burned into her hand. He had spoken to her, whispered in her ear as the mark etched its way into her skin, into her soul. But they had not spoken beyond that, and his presence here now left her wondering. “I watch, I listen. I do not get involved.”

He trails off, but she shifts, curiosity bubbling its way up her throat. “If you do not get involved, then what is this?”

Her question hangs, and she watches the water dip into the hollow of his throat, watches droplets cling to his dark lashes. The mark is buzzing, humming on her skin, and she shivers. He pulls himself up, out of the water, and she hazards a glance away, hoping the sailors remain far enough back to avoid seeing this particular visitor. When she turns back, he is inches away.

“Let me see you, Empress.” The Outsider whispers, and his fingers are wet, cold, as they pull the fabric away. He lingers, fingers brushing against her lips, as though contemplating what it meant to be _warm_. With the mark pleasantly buzzing away, she takes a risk, parting her lips to seize a finger between her teeth. He tastes of salt, and water, and something dark. His smile is all teeth, and she shivers. “What a wild thing you are.”

His voice is low, and sends shivers racing along her skin. She blushes, feeling suddenly too warm with this god’s finger between her teeth. His hands are in her hair suddenly, pulling her closer, his lips pressed to hers. He is cold, so _cold_ , but he tastes sweet, and his lips are soft. She is gasping, fingers tight on his wet sleeves, when he pulls away.

“I knew you’d be interesting.” He murmurs, and she is brave in this moment, kissing him again, before he can continue his diatribe. He smiles against her lips, pulling her closer, dampening her clothes. “I’ll be watching.”

And he’s gone, leaving her half hanging overboard, fingers grasping at air. She manages to right herself, sinking to her knees as she brushes numb fingers against numb lips. She’s weak, lightheaded, and more than a little giddy. Fixing the fabric over her face, she rises slowly, shivering as the mark warms.

Shifting the fabric wrapped around her hand, she watches the mark shift gold, then teal, before it finally settles on black.

 _I’ll be watching_.

Feeling returns to her lips, and she brushes them with trembling fingers. What a strange god, the Empress thinks, turning back to the waters.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wear the Outsider's mark. I have a slight (let's be real, more, much more than slight) fascination with the man/god/entity. And I love Emily, and am unbelievably stoked that she is a player-character in the upcoming Dishonored 2. She gets to shine as more than the plaything of creepy old men.


End file.
